


space between

by wasatch_97



Series: i'm in love with that Pretty side of you, the one They'd like to cut away [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Forced Addiction, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Sad Lee Minho | Lee Know, Self-Harm, Soft Boys, Withdrawal, dystopian au, implied mental manipulation, tags sound harsh but in reality this is fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasatch_97/pseuds/wasatch_97
Summary: Sure enough, Minho is there.From Jisung’s vantage point on top of the few stairs he has a clear view of the table and Minho’s profile. The Pretty is fidgeting, his foot bouncing which causes his knee to hit the underside of the table every once in a while, rattling the dispensers and the coffee cup in front of him.It’s rare that he’s ever seen Minho nervous, it’s unnerving. But Jisung takes a breath and descends the stairs, walking over to the chosen table.“Hey.”Minho starts at Jisung’s words and knocks his drink over, the burning liquid spilling over the tile floor.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: i'm in love with that Pretty side of you, the one They'd like to cut away [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902487
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	space between

**Author's Note:**

> hii  
> heres an update, sorry the writing is so bad this is the fic I am not as invested in??? kinda,, so I take it easy :(

Throughout the ride back to his home, Jisung thinks. He thinks about every moment that has passed and of how badly he wishes he hadn’t gone to New Pretty. Jisung tries not to think about Minho. 

It doesn’t work.

In the shower Jisung scrubs away all the dirt that had collected on his skin from his trip. He tries to scrub away the memory of Minho’s touch, the way he’d cried. 

The way he was so horribly beautiful.

Jisung slides into bed not long after, pulling his weighted blanket around him until he’s cocooned. The pressure makes him feel safe and secure, but not from his thoughts. 

It takes him hours to fall asleep.

The next morning Jisung stumbles over to his desk, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he scrolls through his messages. There’s a few from classmates and one from a teacher, but what catches his eye is a handle he hasn’t seen in his inbox in a very long time.

[L. Minho] 

Jisung blinks, shocked. It’s a fever dream, and with that in mind he clicks on the message. 

[L. Minho]  
Jisung, can we please meet?  
I know you have no reason to trust me, but I need to see you.  
Please, Jisung. I’m begging you. 

A fever dream. It’s just a dream.

[H. Jisung]  
Why should I?  
Give me one good reason why I should see you  
You broke my heart, Minho. 

[L. Minho]  
Jisung, it’s important. Please

He’s weak. Always has been.

[H. Jisung]  
Fine. Where?

[L. Minho]  
Old City center? That café we liked?

[H. Jisung]  
Fine. 

[L. Minho]  
Thank you, Jisung.  
I have a lot to tell you  
I hope you’ll listen

[H. Jisung]  
Depends on if you’re sincere. 

[L. Minho]  
You have my word.

[H. Jisung]  
I can’t trust your word anymore, Minho. 

Pretties don’t often come to the Old Town aside from visiting family. Jisung had hoped that he’d see Minho here as often as he could, but…but. 

Jisung tugs on the bill of his cap, pulling it lower to hide himself from any gazes he might catch. As he pushes open the door to the shop a bell jingles and he winces, nodding shyly to the woman behind the counter who had turned to look at the door, alerted by the sound. Jisung quickly walks past, through the large room of the café and through an archway positioned in the far corner. There’s a short flight of stairs down to the overflow seating of the shop; it’s where he and Minho would always go to be out of the way, out of sight. 

Sure enough, Minho is there.

From Jisung’s vantage point on top of the few stairs he has a clear view of the table and Minho’s profile. The Pretty is fidgeting, his foot bouncing which causes his knee to hit the underside of the table every once in a while, rattling the dispensers and the coffee cup in front of him. 

It’s rare that he’s ever seen Minho nervous, it’s unnerving. But Jisung takes a breath and descends the stairs, walking over to the chosen table.

“Hey.” 

Minho starts at Jisung’s words and knocks his drink over, the burning liquid spilling over the tile floor. Jisung grabs a stack of napkins from the dispenser on the table and drops into a crouch to clean the mess up. Minho follows not seconds later and tries to help but Jisung pushes him by the shoulder with his free hand, nodding towards the table. 

Minho lets out a noise of unease but goes along with Jisung’s gesture and sits, shaking worse than he had been when Jisung first saw him. 

Jisung quickly wipes up the floor and then goes to the nearest receptacle to throw out the napkins. When he returns Minho is sitting on his hands with his head bowed as he breathes unevenly. 

Something is wrong. 

Jisung’s chest is tight. 

He slides into the seat across from Minho and then pulls his bag off to set on the table to the right of him. “So, you messaged me.”

When Minho looks up Jisung’s breath catches in shock. The Pretty’s eyes are red from lack of sleep and there’s a dullness to his expression that Jisung has never seen from him. But on top of that, his lips are bitten red, and when he pulls his hands out from under him and rests them on the tabletop Jisung can see bruised crescents on both his palms from where he must have dug his fingernails repeatedly into his skin. 

Minho looks horrible, yet somehow still beautiful. Jisung is nauseous. 

“Yeah,” his voice is rough, tired. “I, I needed t’tell you something,” Minho’s head drops as if his neck has given out half way through his words and instantly Jisung is on his feet and sliding into Minho’s side of the booth. It’s an unconscious act to hold Minho when he’s overtired or upset.

Minho leans into him easily, his head drooping against Jisung’s chest. He suddenly looks small, so small that Jisung feels completely lost. Minho is the one who takes care of him; Minho has never let Jisung take care of him because the older boy has put Jisung before himself, always. 

But now Minho so obviously needs help. 

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asks, slipping one arm around Minho and stroking the Pretty’s blue hair with his other. He tries to keep his voice low and calm, not wanting to startle Minho more than he already has. 

“Sung,” Minho whimpers, one of his hands clutching the front of Jisung’s hoodie. “Sung-ie…I can’t say it here, they might hear.”

Minho’s actions force Jisung to believe something is truly wrong, and that this must be important, so he racks his brain for a way to figure this out. His eyes settle on the restroom sign on the opposite wall and he sighs a bit in relief. “Come with me, then.” 

Jisung tugs at Minho’s wrist until he stands as well and pulls him towards the restrooms. He knows about the Council and their love for wiretapping and hidden cameras - everyone does. 

“They won’t have tapped this room. They have a bit of decency at least,” Jisung says when he’s pulled them inside the single bathroom and locked the door. “Talk to me, you’re worrying me.” His voice softens and Minho’s breath hitches, and he leans against Jisung’s side.

“Last night when I saw you it was like a shock to my system,” Minho tells him, his voice heavy with exhaustion and something else Jisung can’t quite place. Fear? “It was like something was unlocked inside of me. That night I was in shock and forgot my dose of the medicine they have us take, to help with adjusting to our new bodies. As the hours passed everything got clearer and clearer - even more so than when I saw you.” Minho looks at him, and his eyes are glassy. “I remembered waking up from the surgery. It was like a fake memory was forced over the original, because how I remembered it up until last night was waking up happy. A little stiff but nothing more than that. But in the memory I just recalled, I wasn’t well, at least mentally. The first thing I asked was to see you,” he whispers. Jisung’s heart shatters and he feels tears in his own eyes. “They said I couldn’t and I fell into a panic, I was terrified of you going through what I had just done. I’d lost my identity, lost myself.” 

“Min…”

“I didn’t take the pill again this morning and everything is clear as day, I have my thoughts back, my memories.” Minho pushes further into Jisung. “They...I think they’ve made us addicted so we love taking the pills. So we don’t question anything, about whatever they’re doing to us. Making us forget.”

Jisung’s head is buzzing with this; how could he have been so stupid as to believe Minho would have forgotten him? And how could he have so easily dismissed Minho’s blatant hatred for the Council for the rumors surrounding their abuse of power. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you.” 

Minho shakes his head, hiding his face against Jisung’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself. I should have expected something to go wrong, mess us up. Sung, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault either,” Jisung whispers, one arm looping around Minho’s thin waist while the other strokes his hair. He feels Minho shake in his arms and he knows that he’s crying - it makes his own tears fall. He tries to distract himself with questions. “Are you okay physically? You’re going through withdrawal, nothing’s gone wrong?” 

Minho draws away and rubs at his damp cheeks with his sleeves. After, he extends his right hand, looking down in shame. Jisung carefully rolls up Minho’s sleeve and winces at the state of his skin. There’s a blue band circling his wrist, one that he must have been snapping to distract himself from the symptoms because the skin under it is bruised green and purple. 

Jisung slips the band over his hand and stuffs it into his pocket, and takes Minho’s hand in both of his to rub his thumbs over the purpling skin. “Min…” 

“It doesn’t hurt that much,” Minho says, whimpering a bit when Jisung touches a particularly sore spot. “Better that than taking the pills.” 

Minho knocks away Jisung’s hands and in turn he takes Jisung’s left hand and slides up his sleeve. Jisung can see the pain flickering in Minho’s eyes as he looks at the scars and he tries to pull away but Minho holds on, not letting Jisung run. 

“Please,” Minho whispers, and his eyes shimmer like he might cry if Jisung leaves. 

So Jisung stays. 

Minho pulls up his other sleeve and stares blankly at his wrists, eyes tracing every line, old and new, across his skin. 

The first tear hits Jisung’s left palm, and the splattering of water shocks him, though he’s expected it. 

The second tear blends with the next, and soon Minho is crowding against Jisung again, whimpering against his shoulder. 

Jisung feels himself begin to cry again as well. 

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” Minho sobs, his body shaking. “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, Jisung--”

“Shh,” Jisung murmurs, pressing his lips to a spot just shy of Minho’s ear. “It’s not. It isn’t, Min. It isn’t your fault. I...I hate myself for believing that you could ever have forgotten me. We mean too much to each other. I should have realized something was wrong. I’m sorry for not finding you sooner. I’m so sorry, Minnie.” 

“Jisung,” Minho’s voice cracks half way through his name and when he peels himself away from Jisung’s side Minho’s eyes are shimmering with tears. “I’m so scared. Please - please don’t leave...”

“Minnie, I’m not leaving you, I promise, I promise you that.” Jisung takes Minho’s shaking hands in both of his. “I’m right here, _byeol.”_ He raises a pair of their hands and rests Minho’s palm against his own cheek. 

_“Byeol,_ why did you call me that?”

“Because you have the stars in your eyes.”

Minho’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink and he looks away. “The surgery...they added that stuff to my eyes.”

Jisung shakes his head. “You’ve always had starry eyes.”

_Minho looks at him like Jisung is his universe._

“Forgive me, please.” A silent tear runs down the Pretty’s cheek. 

“For what?”

Minho gulps. “For breaking all of our promises. For changing.”

Everything is finally clear and Jisung can see the boy he’s loved for so long in front of him again. With a surge of bravery and a tirade of emotions drawing him endlessly to Minho, Jisung rests a hand on Minho’s waist and brings his other up to touch Minho’s soft cheek. 

“Do you love me?”

Minho has tears in his eyes as he nods. 

Jisung kisses him. 

Minho’s endless tears dampen their kiss and Jisung can feel him shaking but when he tries to pull away Minho whines in what almost sounds like pain. So Jisung continues their kiss, sealing his promises of love in their exchange. 

Minho looks dazed when they finally part, long eyelashes fluttering as he stabilizes himself against Jisung. As he rests his head against Jisung’s shoulder, exhausted, Jisung is hit with another wave of guilt; for causing Minho extra stress with this step in their relationship while he’s going through everything to do with the pills. 

“Don’t think so hard,” Minho whispers while curling up further in Jisung’s embrace, if possible. “I’m okay, Sung. And if I’m not I will be soon.” 

“Okay.” Jisung isn’t very reassured but he closes his eyes and focuses on the weight of Minho in his arms. 

He’s gotten so light. 

So fragile. 

“I have to go soon, Sung. There’s a friend of mine that knows I’ve been...feeling under the weather. He’d be worried about me and I don’t want him going to the Council to find me.” 

A twinge of jealousy prickles in Jisung’s gut but he pushes it down. “I’ll walk you out, then?” 

Minho smiles at him but he can tell it’s forced. “Thank you.” 

Unlocking the bathroom door is like leaving a safe haven; when they’re outside the implications of everything are so much stronger. Minho keeps Jisung’s hand in his as they cross to their table, picking up their respective bags. 

More fear is coursing through Jisung than ever before; fear for Minho’s safety. Desperate, Jisung can’t help himself and before they enter the main room he pulls Minho around by his hand to face him. “Sorry,” he mutters and then pulls Minho into another kiss.

“Jisung,” Minho murmurs, his eyes wide from the unexpected intimacy. There’s worry in his gaze and Jisung realizes he’s stupid for thinking Minho wouldn’t be able to read him. “Tell me what’s wrong?” 

Jisung scuffs his heel against the floor. 

“Jisung,” Minho tilts his chin up with a finger. “Talk to me, please.”

Jisung knows he can’t escape. “I’m just scared I’m going to wake up and seeing you will have been a dream. Or worse that you’re being hurt because you’ve skipped your pills. And more selfishly that you have someone in your life who is a better fit for you. Because even if something isn’t right with the pills, you’re Pretty and I’m not. I can’t be with you when I want to be.” 

“Oh, Jisung,” Minho kisses Jisung’s cheek. “I...I have been with a few people, I won’t lie to you about that.” Jisung’s heart crumbles. “But I can’t give anyone my heart, it’s yours. It’s been yours for so long now, and that won’t change. I hate myself for letting myself be deceived, for being forced from you. All I’ve ever wanted is you and I. I love you, and I’ll be okay.” 

“I love you too,” Jisung whispers, staring into Minho’s sparkling eyes and hoping that somehow Minho can understand just how much.

**Author's Note:**

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